Romans & histoires Black Waitress Clothes

I have dark raven black hair, green hazel eyes, and just the perfect touch tanned skin. “So, what would you like me to order for you?” “Make mine the seafood, and make sure they make it spicy this time.” “Sure, if you don’t care about your stomach.” I hurry to get wash my hair, so I’ll have the time to blow dry it right after I wash up. After my shower I needed to dry my hair as I brush it to the right style, and carefully do my make up. I hurry to the closet to get my work clothes. It’s a short black leather dress laced in the front of it, and I get the knee-high leather boots on with the ridiculous heel on them. I really don’t like the idea of working at a place like this, but sadly I need

They both seem to know each other since they both were still too shock to speak and they probably forgot I was even sitting here. I took that advantage and looked at the waitress properly. She was 5ft something, dark black hair that was curled up and put into a messy bun, she wore these really short clothes that hardly covered anything but it did bring out her curves and figure. She was almost fit to be a model.

And I fear only one thing—what will my child think if she ever finds me in a place like this? His jaw tightens, but I don’t stay long enough to hear anything else. I walk past him, my heels tapping lightly against the floor, refusing to let him ruin the little peace I have left. I head into the dressing room and remove my red gown, wearing another white sexy dress—short skirt and a shirt that looks more like a sleeping vest. This is the dress code in the restaurant. We have to look sexy for the guests if we want to keep our jobs as waitresses.

It was so lousy and unusual. She wore a dress she saved for nights she wanted to look like a seductress. It was black, backless, the hem of it barely above mid thigh, the neckline so deep that any move she made revealed her luscious boobs. She didn't wear a bra. Red lipstick on and her long hair loose and wild. She felt someone watching her, she turned and locked eyes with her Boss Ethan. He was seated at a bar, in dark jeans and a black button-down rolled at the sleeves, looking nothing like the strict VP who ruled her weekdays.

I could see white bears peaking out of their sleeves and collars. I could count the only women I could see on one hand. A tattooed, mean looking bartender who looked like she was in her mid forties, a Raven lookalike wearing the skimpiest dress I'd ever seen and shocker, a ginger wearing the most rainbow themed outfit. I'm talking, red, green, and yellow splash hoodie on a bright pink joggers. What was that ball of sunshine doing in this dark scary place? I walked up to the bar and lifted myself up to the bar stool.

"This should be a fun night." I refuse to acknowledge his teasing. "Let me dress and then we'll get this disaster over with." I head back to my suite. The wardrobe selection I have is far more extensive than Raul's and the closet itself is the size of my bedroom back home. There's a mirrored wall and a white plush bench in the middle of the vast room-all of it mine for thirty days and I should make the most of the time I have. I select a black leather front lace-up corset. There's a purple ruffle at the top that does little to hide the swell of my breasts. My nipples will most likely spill out at some point during the night. I also choose a black leather skirt that laces up the sides. I have

the bartender asked. “She will be the only girl in a black dress in the VIP section,” the caller replied. “Noted,” the bartender replied and returned to the bar to continue serving the customers. His eyes hungrily scanned the people in the section but there was no lady in a black dress anywhere. After an hour, two ladies walked in, Angela and Zora. Angela was wearing a black cocktail dress and Zora was in a dark blue close-fitting straight dress whose length was just up to her thigh. The two were approached by a man who walked them to the bar. The man bought a drink for the two ladies and left with one to the dance floor leaving the lady in the black dress at the bar.

On the other hand, Mat had walked Aiyana home under the ssnarky orders of the vampire. * * The door opened slowly, letting in two sublime women. Both, a blonde and a brunette, were dressed entirely in black leather and lace and wore thick black glasses. The brunette had pale skin and wore a tight French twist updo. The blonde had ebony black skin contrasted with her long platinum blonde braid. “Welcome to the Crossroad Café! My name is Bianca, and I’m your waitress for today!” the young woman announced cheerfully. The brunette approached with a confident step, slowly removing the gloves that covered her hands. Then, she lowered her sunglasses on her nose and looked at Bianca from underneath.

"Oh my god, Chelsea? You work here too? That's so... industrious of you." The way she said it made 'industrious' sound like 'pathetic.' The others snickered, nudging each other as they took in my outfit—the mandatory black tank top with VENOM decorated across the chest, the tight black jeans, the heavy makeup required by management to "enhance the atmosphere." "What can I get for you?" I repeated, pen poised over my pad. "I'll need a moment," Valerie said, examining the menu like it was written in ancient Sanskrit. "What's good here? For someone with, you know, standards?"